No Happy Endings
by SB-HarryPotter
Summary: A mysterious girl ends up on the streets of America, not knowing her identity or family. But this all changes when she meets a strange boy who seems to know everything about her. She's not just the 'freak' she used to be, but something much, much worse.
1. Facing Death

I'd never really thought about death before. It isn't something that slips into a seven-year old's mind. Parents just tell their kids that when they die, Jesus will be waiting for them in heaven; that's a load of rubbish.

But that's how I feel now. Dead, I mean. I can feel my-self slowly slipping into unconsciousness, drowning deeper and deeper into a fuzzy dream. I desperately force my-self to keep my eyes open, but the pain insists on shutting my eyes. The noise of the traffic gradually fades away. My very last thought before I ceased to exist should have been 'You're a bitch, Bellatrix Black', but instead I chose 'What a way to die'...


	2. Miracles Are Real

Black. That was the first thing that came to my head. It was all that I could see. The darkness whirled around me, suffocating me. I tried to get up and run, but it was no use. No-body could hear my screams of terror, because I was dead. But if I was dead, why could I still feel the pain, and taste the blood on my skin? Why could I still hear the faintness of footsteps and the traffic that was zooming past me before I took my last breathe? No. Surely this isn't death, but something else.

I tried hopelessly to open my eyes, but it was no use. It was too easy to give up and just let the darkness engulf me. But a stronger voice inside of me shouted to try harder, "or are you too weak?"

NO. No-body called me weak.

I WAS strong. "Prove it then. Open your eyes!"

I guess that's how I survived. Listening to my conscious. Of course, my other conscious sneered about how stupid I was, trying to live, when I could just die and have no bother in the world anyway. Be 'worry-free'.

Please. Spare me the petty theory of heaven.

So in the end, I managed to be able to squint at my surroundings. And nearly fainted at what I saw. Somehow…some-very-miraculously-how I had managed to survive. But how? I mean… I was on the verge of death by the time _she_ had handled with me after a couple of minutes – let alone a _year? _

I slowly – and very painfully got up from my cramped position on the floor. It was still afternoon, but the sky was starting to get dark, meaning that nightfall was very soon.

My present 'shelter' was located in an alleyway, which wasn't far from the main street. I needed to get to the centre of America as soon as possible, and my only option to get there was hitchhiking. Dangerous, I know, but it was my only way of arriving at my desperate destination.

Very carefully, I made my way out of the snake like shaped alleyway and into the busy streets of America.


	3. Are You Are Stranger?

It was hard business. Hitchhiking, I mean. You'd think that somebody would see a scared seven-year old child all alone and immediately offer them a ride, wouldn't you? Life isn't easy.

Throughout the first half and hour, no-body gave me a second glance, but after a while, people started giving me funny looks, like _**what is a child like you doing on the streets of London, on your own?**_But stuff them. I don't care for sympathetic looks. Eventually, some weird-looking dude decides to slow down and stop for me. Thankfully, he is _not _a druggie or an alcoholic, and is willing to take me as far as Arlington, which is about 5 miles from the centre of America.

This guy doesn't ask any questions, but does irritate me a little, because he keeps on staring at me and giving me looks. Pervert.

For the entire journey, none of us says a word to each other, and I'm relieved when we finally arrive at Arlington.

Thanking the man, I step outside into the fresh air, and continue my journey on foot. Despite the fact that I'm near death-exhausted, I keep going with fresh determination. But just as I'm about to turn a corner, a great wave of noise hits my ear drums. I make a revolted noise. "Pubs", I mutter to my-self. They're full of drunk, rowdy men. But despite my utter disgust, I couldn't resist to have a peek at what the noise was about. As I walked in, my nose promptly experienced the deep smell of alcohol and sweat. I wrinkled my nose but walked forward, nonetheless.

I scanned the room for the source of the noise, and realized that a boxing match was proceeding.

"Men", I thought. "They're all typical, wanting to show off in some disgusting sport."

"You all right, darling? Want some beer?" said an old wrinkler from the right side of me. Argh. So damn disgusting!

I moved forward again, wanting to see the results. My eyes fell onto the two boxers. One of them was a bald headed man with a tattoo on his left arm, and looked quite menacing. The other man had thick, black hair and was slightly smaller than his opponent. As the fight proceeded, I could tell that the first man was losing – and bad.

Dazedly, I watched the men as they fought. Suddenly, the smaller challenger whammed his fist into the other man's groin. The second man grunted in pain and fell down on the hard ground.

As the second opponent was declared as the winner, no-body made a sound. I frowned; there must be _some _sort of cheering…but there were only the flicker of rolled eyes and annoyed faces. A loud shout struck me back into reality; a man was asking me to move out of the way.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. It was getting late, and I was still standing in the stuffy pub. However, as I stood debating whether I should just wait till tomorrow to continue my journey or keep going now; my legs seem to grow a life of their own. I started walking towards the mini-bar.

From where I was positioned, I could just about make out a figure sitting at the bar. It was one of the opponents; the second man.

As quietly as I could, I sat down beside him. He turned his head at me, but didn't say anything. I guess he didn't actually look at me properly, because he glanced at me again, but this time he looked at me for longer.

I started to get uncomfortable with him staring. "Er, sir? Would you please stop staring?" I asked quietly, without looking at me. But despite my request, he kept on looking at me. I shifted around in my seat nervously. Finally, I sighed and bended my head slightly to look at him. The man made eye contact with me, and saw the uncomfortable look in my eyes. He stopped looking; "Sorry," he muttered.

I smiled thankfully. I was about to say thank you when he asked, "But can I ask why you are on your own?"

I gave another smile. "Well you just did ask," I said through my smile. The man just looked at me, waiting for an answer.

I stopped smiling and sighed. "My mother is here. She's just at the other side of the pub," I said bluntly. I could fluently lie through my teeth.

The fighter looked convinced; evidently, my story had been more than enough to satisfy him. But he still asked, "Where is she?"

With difficulty, I restrained from rolling my eyes, and instead I pointed vaguely in the direction of a group of women. My neighbour nodded and fell silent again.

Just then the bald headed man who was fighting earlier came up to us. He tapped his opponent on the back in a harsh manner and said, "I want a rematch. Now," His voice was low and deep.

I peeked at the black-haired man sitting next to me; he didn't seem at all bothered about this approach. In fact, he hadn't moved a muscle.

I tensed. The bald man stood impatiently, tapping his bulky foot on the ground. I knew that if this man didn't get his own way, he would be angry. And the conversation wouldn't end well –at all.

He opened his mouth to start yelling words of abuse, when the smaller of the two stood up. The bald man opened his mouth again, but instead of shouting foul language he tried a different approach. "I know what the f*** you are," he hissed.

His opponent raised an arm and rammed the bald man into a nearby wall. In the next second, he held his fist close to the bald man's face. "Do you want me to?" the black haired man asked. I frowned at the couple, confused.

The bald man leaned his head slightly away and gulped nervously. And then very slowly – but almost so fast, the smaller man slide long, sharp metal claws from his knuckles. I inaudibly gasped. I suddenly felt weird and sickened by what I saw. Of course, I had previously seen much more horrific things in my life, but they were all usually done by me. I had never, ever seen anybody else do something so…abnormal.

The bald man squeaked in response and shook his head wildly. It was an obvious choice.

The smaller man lessened his grip on his opponent and relaxed. The metal claws slid back into his knuckles, and he backed away. As he turned around and walked towards the door to the pub, I silently questioned whether I should follow him. Cautiously, I walked forward. Stepping back out into the fresh air, I was successfully able to breathe again. In the far distance, I could make out a blob shape that slowly turned into a figure, then a man. I half-ran and half-walked fast to the object.

Mid-way through running, I realized a perfect plan.


	4. Wolverine

As quickly as I could manage, I weaved my way through the many vehicles parked outside the pub. I could just about manage to see a speck of black hair in the distance. It was a struggle to walk fast enough to catch up with the speck. Due to my current condition, the speck started turning into a mere dot. I quickly debated what to do; if I ran, I would probably collapse, but if I didn't run, I would be stuck at this dirty pub. So I decided to jog.

I could hear my-self starting to wheeze slightly, and my breathing was becoming heavier. Even my bones were quickly starting to ache, and with every movement, the bruises and scars on my abused body gave out a huge wave of pain. Ignoring my body's feeble protest, I advanced my pace, causing the mere dot to become a speck, which then started to become a blob, then a figure and into a man. I had reached my destination.

As silently as a predator hunting its prey, I crept up onto the back of the truck, crawling into a comfortable position. I sighed, granting permission for my body to relax. The cool wind brushed softly against my face, whipping at my hair, innocently calling me to sleep.

However, just as my head started to loll and my eyes became droopy, the truck suddenly stopped, causing me to be banged back and forth slightly.

I groaned softly, then looked around and frowned. The vehicle had stopped in the middle of nowhere. There were trees swaying in the wind, and snow sitting peacefully on mountain tops, but there were no buildings around, or any other signs of life. Then, a car door slammed, and I could hear heavy footsteps approaching. My heart starting pounding loudly and painfully in my chest. The rhythm of the footsteps matched the loud beating.

Then, as suddenly as the footsteps started, they stopped. I didn't know what to do, I felt like someone had stupefied me. There was nowhere to go, or to move, without making a sound. And even if I did escape, where would I go? I was in the middle of nowhere!

During the time that I sat questioning my chances of survival, I failed to notice a face staring at me. Eventually I came to terms that somebody was watching me and standing at least half a metre away from me. I looked up to see an angry face looking down at me.

"What the hell you doing?" he asked roughly, taking his cigar out this mouth, which he was previously smoking. I could see that he recognized me from the pub.

"I'm sorry. I…I needed a ride, and I thought you might help me." I said nervously.

"Well you were wrong. Get out," he replied, jerking his thumb backwards.

"But…I mean, where am I supposed to go?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"You don't know, or you don't care?" I challenged him.

"Pick one," he retorted back. I climbed out of the back of the truck and jumped down onto the ground beneath me.

"You…you can't leave me here!" I pleaded desperately.

"Watch me."

So I watched. I watched him get back into his truck and drive away. I sighed, all hope drained from me. However, just as I turned away, my ears picked up a sound; an engine stopping. I glanced back and saw the truck standing there in the middle of the road. I grinned.

* * *

><p>"You don't have anything to eat, do you?" I asked, as my stomach rumbled for the umpteenth time that day.<p>

He put his cigar in his mouth, then reached over to one of the compartments in the car, and pulled out a bar of something brown.

"What's this?" I interrogated, looking at the brown stuff curiously. The man didn't answer; but instead stared at me in disbelief.

"You mean you don't know what chocolate is?" he inquired.

"Choc-o-late", I said, experimenting with the new word. It sounded strange, almost like a foreign language. I looked at the bar of brown stuff again, and then brought it to my mouth, nibbling it.

"Hmmm, I like it," I grinned. The man just kept looking at me, with immense incredulity.

"What?" I asked him.

"You haven't heard of chocolate? Man, I thought all kids have heard of chocolate!" He said.

"Well…" I tried to think of something to say in reply. "I haven't had much of a chance to be a kid," I said finally. The man looked at me once more, but didn't say anything.

After a few moments of silence, I piped up again. "I'm Hestia by the way," I said, trying to get onto friendly terms with him.

"Wolverine," he said in reply.

"Wol-ve-rine," I repeated. "Hmmm, what kind of a name is that….I mean, I like it, but…," I rectified after seeing the look on his face.

After a moment or two, he replied, "My name's Logan."

I looked at him, before saying, "Oh. Well, I prefer Wolverine. You know, it means 'Coacuatchoo.' Wolverine was the moon's lover," I told him, remembering the story that somebody had once told me a long time ago.

"Really?" he asked. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition, but when I looked at him again, it was gone.

"Yeah," I replied.

There was another moment of silence, before I spoke again - I was never the one for a quiet atmosphere. "You know, you really should wear your seat belt," I lectured him.

"Look kid, I don't need advice on all –" SMASH! The glass on the windscreen smashed, and sprayed everywhere. I yelped in surprise and automatically raised my arms in front of my face to protect my-self. Suddenly, Logan went flying out of his seat and through the windscreen, landing several metres away from the truck, into the snow. My mind was too busy wondering if he was OK, to even think of saying "What did I tell you."

Something caught my sense of smell's attention. I looked around, and saw a familiar image. The back of the inside of the truck had caught fire. I coughed, and reached down to undo my seat belt, only to find that it was stuck. "Logan!" I desperately cried, hoping against hope that he wasn't dead. I just started to take a liking to him.

Slowly, Logan got up, making me sigh with relief, only to stop mid-way when a hiss caught my attention. The fire seemed to be growing bigger. Logan looked up, his face smeared with wet blood, due to a nasty cut that had developed. Before he could say anything, I stopped moving. And stared. And stared. And kept on staring, and staring. Logan meanwhile was looking at me with confusion. I was staring at his cut. It seemed to be healing rapidly on its own. After what felt like hours, but was actually only a couple of seconds, the healing stopped, and Logan's face was cut-free.

"You alright?" he asked me. "Hey, kid, are you alright?" he repeated, speaking louder, making me snap out of my daydream.

"I'm stuck!" I shouted at him. He strode over, ready to help me, but then stopped. I groaned. What happened now? Then, I noticed something, that if anyone else were with me, they probably wouldn't have noticed. They wouldn't have seen the way that Logan's ears pricked up, and the way that his nose wrinkled, as if he was sensing something nearby. I stopped struggling and glanced around, worried. Was someone or something out there?

Logan's eyes started to narrow, as he turned around on the spot, trying to locate whatever he was searching for. Suddenly, he stopped, and slowly, the metal claws that penetrated his skin, came out. Any sane person who probably recoil, but then again, I'm not exactly…_sane. _

The heat of the fire started to increase, making tiny beads of sweat form on my forehead. I could feel my body started to burn up, but instead of the smoke choking me, something else happened. I started to engulf the smoke, like it was oxygen. My body seemed to _like _ the poisonous gas. I was about to shout Logan's name again, when something big and hairy jumped out of the bushes and onto Logan. It came so suddenly, that I had no time to scream "Look out!" to Logan. I peered at the animal, realizing that the creature was in fact another human being, but was just somewhat too hairy. The creature roared, and launched it-self at Logan again. This time the latter was prepared, and moved out of the way. The hairy beast growled, and grabbed Logan as if he was a rag doll. He hurled Logan through the sky, making his destination point on the bumper of the car. I gasped, looking at the unconscious form of Logan, whose metal claws had somehow retreated into his hands. The beast laughed deeply, then stomped its way over to where I was sitting. But just as he was standing at the front of the car, he stopped walking, and sniffed the air. I frowned, wondering what he was sniffing about. As if he was trying to answer to my wonderings, the hairy creature looked up at the sky.

I followed his gaze, noticing only then how dark the sky had become, almost dark enough for a storm to brew. The creature snarled, and looked around. I leaned over, and saw two figures standing in the exact same spot that Logan had been laying. The shorter of the two figures had dark skin, and looked quite young, despite the fact, she had long white hair. Almost the colour of the clouds. The taller of the two was a male. He too looked quite young, with short, wavy brown hair, high cheekbones, and weirdly enough…some sort of a red and grey band across his eyes, the sort of band you see on battle visors – expect, battle visors do not normally glow red. I could somehow feel a lot of energy vibrating off him, although I was not exactly sure _how _I could.

What was the most peculiar thing about the two of them was the woman's eyes. Instead of having pupils like anyone else, her eyes were completely white, and they were focused upwards, like...like, she was _controlling _the weather. I shivered, even though the fire had grown bigger and the heat would be for any other person, unbearable. I say 'would be' because it was actually rather comfortable for me. I couldn't stop shivering – who _were _these people? I mean, I had quickly accepted that Logan was different, but now I think about it, they were all the same. They were all strange…different. Like they all possessed some sort of a weird talent. Logan's being that he had metal claws…and the ability to heal quickly. This woman's being that she could control the weather. But what about the other man? I could feel many energy waves coming from him, and he was wearing some sort of a protection. Maybe the band of red is like….laser. Maybe this person could shot out laser beams?

Throughout the entire time I was working out what these people could do, I didn't see Mr. Hairy Guy be thrown into the bushes by the optic energy beam that Mr. Laser Guy shot at him. Nor did I notice the short women and the tall man walk over to the truck, and stop outside my door. What I did notice, however, was the truck door being opened, and Mr. Laser free me from my seat.

The strange women reached out to take my hand, and looked at me, saying, "Come with us. You are safe now." I guess I was too exhausted to think about arguing, as I took her hand. Mr. Laser grabbed hold of Logan, and the three of us (Logan was unconscious, so he couldn't exactly _run_) ran away from the truck, just as it exploded.

I'm afraid I can't tell you what happened after that. I had slipped into unconsciousness.


	5. Mutants

Black. That is what I saw again. Blackness all around me. Only this time, instead of tasting blood on my skin and hearing the zooming of traffic around me, I could taste clean and fresh air, and hear voices in the background. Yet, I could still feel the abnormal pain, which my body drowned in.

The voices were becoming louder and louder, making my head buzz with the volume. I tried to open my eyes, so I could see the source, and tell it to shut up, but my eyes started complaining about the bright light that would be waiting to blind me if I did open my eyes.

I sighed with distaste. Sometimes I felt like my body was in control of me, instead of me being in control of my body.

Then, all of a sudden, I felt a none too familiar tug in my mind. _Somebody was trying to read my thoughts! _I knew that mind reading was real, or as _**He**_ called it, Legilimency.

I had enough experience of it already.

I desperately tried to force the person out of my head, but the invader pushed further inside. Now I started to get angry. Who did this person think they were?

As my anger grew, I could feel my body becoming more and more tense, and my hands automatically curled themselves into fists. I growled, and then suddenly, I felt the intruder be violently flung back from my mind. I felt satisfied when I heard a crash in the previously buzzing background.

Things started to become clearer, I could now make out what the voices were saying. After the crash, a woman's voice said, "Professor! Are you alright?"

Professor? What was this place? A school? Maybe…maybe a school…of psychology; I mean, those people I meant earlier were…different. I started panicking. I did not want to be stuck in some sort of a mental institute.

Blearily, I opened my eyes. After a few seconds, the fogginess of my vision cleared away, and I was able to see where I was. I seemed to be lying on some sort of bed…but it was metal. In fact, everything appeared to be made of…metal.

Around me lay various medical equipment on small metal tables. A few metres away from me stood a women. She was bending over a bald man in a wheelchair, asking if he was OK. Hmmm, I thought. This was the so-called 'Professor' who tried to read my mind.

The 'Professor' seemed to realize that I had awoken. He muttered to the women, "Jean, I believe your patient has awoken." The women turned around, and looked over at me. She had long red hair that was tied back in a ponytail and a somewhat friendly face. She, like the other two people I met, looked quite young.

I ignored her, and tried to sit up. She immediately starting to push me back down, then abruptly stopped, after seeing the look on my face. I had words to discuss with the 'Professor.' However, just as I approached him, I remembered something.

"Where's Logan?" I asked the women.

"Oh, er, well he's…" She trailed off, looking uncertain.

"He's?" I prompted her.

"He's-" She started to say, but was interrupted as the vast circular door slid open, and in came Logan. "-there," the women finished.

"Logan! Are you OK?" I asked him.

Before Logan could answer, the 'Professor' coughed. I turned around to face him.

"I do believe that you should be resting," he said.

"And I do believe that _you_ should not try to read other people's minds!" I snarled at him.

His eyes widened slightly, but ignored my vicious tone. "Ah. So you know about mind reading?" he asked curiously.

I ignored the question. "Where am I?" I questioned the women.

"Er, your at Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. This is Professor Charles Xavier; he owns the school," She answered.

"Gifted youngsters?" I repeated. "Right. So, being gifted means that you can control the weather? Or shot out optic laser beams? Or try to invade people's minds? Or maybe"-I said, turning my attention to her, "It means that your telekinesis."

With every word that I uttered, the Professor and the women's eyebrows shot up a centimetre or two. But before they could say anything, Logan cut in.

"Excuse me? How the hell can anyone control the weather? Or shot out…what was it? Laser beams. And mind reading? What the hell? As for telekinesis…." He said in disbelief.

"Logan. You know you have an extremely narrow mind, sometimes," I told him amusedly.

Logan just looked at me. Just then, the door slid open again, and two people walked in.

"Logan, and…." He looked at me.

I glared at him, asking him snippily, "What? You couldn't find out what my name in my mind?"

No-body said anything, so I sighed and said, "Hestia. My name is Hestia."

Professor Xavier smiled gently before continuing, "Thank you. Now, Logan, Hestia, I would like you to meet, Ororo Munroe, otherwise known as 'Storm' and Scott Summers, otherwise known as 'Cyclops.'"

'Storm' smiled at Logan and me, and 'Cyclops' stuck out his hand to Logan, who was standing closest to him. Logan just stared at the two of them with faint amusement.

"Right." He said, "And what exactly do they call you?" Logan asked the Professor, "Wheels?"

I gently snorted with laughter, but the Professor just looked at Logan with a blank face.

"Fifteen years, Logan. Fifteen years of running, not knowing your real identity or your past. Give me a _chance. _I can show you who you really are."

At these very words, very blood ran cold. I desperately yearned for him to say those words to me. I had never known my identity, or where I came from. I always wanted to know about my past. But…I just had no memory whatsoever.

"Shut up." Logan said harshly.

"Give me a chance," the Professor repeated.

Logan suddenly stopped and looked around. "What the hell is this place?"

* * *

><p>Professor Xavier had shown Logan around the school. I still felt uneasy about the Professor and what he could do. It was evident that he was extremely powerful, and I had already dealt with people like him before. The Professor said that we could both stay at the school for as long as we wanted, as it was a safe place for mutants. Meaning people who had gifts. What was strange was that no-body had asked me about what I could do. Neither had I said anything about my so-called 'gift' to any of the adults, even though I knew I did not actually have one. The fact remained that I <em>wanted <em>to stay at the school. It felt like some sort of a home that I never had. I was too afraid that if I told someone I did not have a gift, then they would not allow me to stay at Xavier's school.

During the time that Logan was touring the vast school, I had met a few other gifted students: Bobby, who could create ice at will, Rogue (Marie) who could actually hurt people with her touch. When she rather uncomfortably told me her gift, felt extremely sympathetic towards her. She could not ever touch anyone, without hurting them. I also met John, who's gift was an enemy of Bobby's. Like Bobby had ice, John had fire. However, John was at the stage where her was only able to manipulate the fire from a somewhere, e.g. a cigarette lighter.

It was inevitably intriguing to see some people's gifts (Rogue's would definitely NOT be classed as 'intriguing.'

Over a period, I learnt that many of the pupils that attended Xavier's school, had parents that did not actually know about their gifts. To theirs, the governments, and the rest of the world's eyes, Xavier's school was actually a school for young people who were gifted in the academical areas.

This made me think. Charles Xavier was playing a tricky game. He knew that one-day people would know about the school for young mutants, and would want to get rid of it, just like the exposed mutants in the rest of the world. Then what? More than 50% of these students would not have anywhere to go, as their families would probably want nothing to do with them. And I knew exactly how that felt.

* * *

><p>The cities of America were always busy and crowded, however, one particular city was particularly crowded. Supporters of Senator Kelly, otherwise known as 'Mr Mutant' were gathered around waiting for their hero. You see, this population of people were anti-mutant supporters. They wanted mutants gone forever. They had come out with their protest signs, encouraging Senator Kelly about his work. Some signs wrote, 'Send the mutants to the moon, FOREVER!', others just simply wrote 'Mr Mutant!' or 'Get rid of mutants!'<p>

However, what Senator Kelly did not know was that in a few moments, he would be kidnapped by his own helicopter pilot and his assistant.

You see, his pilot was actually working with the infamous 'Magneto', whom you will find out about later on. His assistant too was working with Magneto, but was in a rather impressive disguise. The appearance of the person was not the impressive part, but what the assistant could do was the impressive part about it.

So, what happened after Mr Mutant got out of his limousine and onto the crowded streets of America, where a young girl had once stood?

Mr Kelly stood standing on these streets, waving and cheering at his fellow fans, until his scheduler pried him away. Then, Mr Kelly gave one last wave, yelling, "You and I together will make this country PROUD!"

And with one final look at his fellow people, not knowing that he would ever see them ever again, he stepped into the dangerous pit of the helicopter.

Inside the helicopter already sat the pilot, and at the back, his assistant was seated.

"Ah. Senator Kelly, sir," the assistant said politely.

"Henry," Mr Kelly returned without looking at him.

Senator Kelly did not know what a long journey this would be.

"…Senator listen, you favour gun registration, yes? Well some of these so-called children possess more than ten times the force of any destructive handgun!...No! I do not see a difference. I see weapons!...Well, that is fair enough. Right. Bye," Senator Kelly finished, looking annoyed at the conversation he had just had with another Senator.

Senator Kelly failed to notice the look that his 'assistant' was giving him.

"So?" asked his 'assistant.'

"It's going to be close," Senator Kelly replied, "The voting in law is always close."

"What about the UN summit? The whole world will be watching." This made the Senator laugh shortly. "Maybe there's someway you could use that to your advantage," the 'assistant' continued.

"We are Americans, Henry," the Senator replied scornfully, "Let the rest of the damn world deal with mutants in their own way. You know, this situation. These mutants? Well if it were up to me…I would lock them all away," the Senator said resentfully. He again failed to notice the look his assistant was giving him.

"It's a war. It's the reason why people like me exist," the Senator said in a bigheaded fashion.

The Senator then looked down through the window. Finally, he had noticed something strange. "Where the hell are we?" he asked, still looking down.

But because the Senator was looking down, he again failed to notice something about his 'assistant.' His 'assistant' was slowly turning blue, and his hair started turning red, and he was in fact turning into a….women.

Then, Senator Kelly looked up, and his head slowly turned to his 'assistant.' He looked in horror and disbelief as a whole new person stood in front of him. This person was in fact a mutant, and was a shape shifter.

The Senator screamed, "Pilot!", but the mutant kicked him back into his seat with her blue foot. She then put her feet on each side of his head, and said viciously, "You know, people like you are the reason I was afraid to go to school as a child."

The mutant then kicked him in the face, repeatedly, successfully knocking him unconscious. She smiled victoriously as Mr Kelly slid down in his seat. The revengeful mutant then stood up and walked over to the pilot. She sat down on one of the pilot seats and the two conscious people in the room exchanged smirks.

* * *

><p>Logan was staring at Jean Grey. He could not stop staring at her, as she continued to put on some equipment on his naked torso.<p>

Logan then said to her, "I'm sorry."

Jean looked at him questionably and replied, "For what?"

The patient pointed to her neck and said, "If I hurt you."

Jean just looked at Logan and smiled, then walked over to the computer behind Logan.

Looking down at his naked torso, and smirking, Logan said, "So. You couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh?"

Jean gave him a look then pressed a button, pushing him, and the metal bed he was lying on into a cylinder shaped tube. Lights started flickering on and off, scanning Logan's body. After a while, everything stopped and Logan just lay there silently.

"The metal is an alloy called adamantium, supposedly indestructible. It has been surgically graphed into his entire skeleton," Jean informed Professor Xavier, Storm, and Cyclops, whilst pointing to the x-ray she had taken earlier.

* * *

><p>"But how could he have survived a procedure like that?" Storm asked.<p>

"His mutation. He has uncharted regenerative capability, which enables him to heal rapidly. It also makes his age impossible to determine. He could very well be older than you, Professor," Jean replied.

"Who did this to him?" Scott asked.

"He doesn't know," Jean told them, "Nor does he remember anything about his life before it happened."

"Experimentation on mutants. It is not unheard of, but I have never seen anything like this, before," Professor Xavier relayed.

"What do you think Magneto wants with him?" Scott asked the Professor.

"I'm not entirely sure it is him Magneto wants," Xavier said.


End file.
